


Dies Gratiarum Actionis

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Series: Deus Domesticus [2]
Category: Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Thanksgiving, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, dad Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: It's time for the long roadtrip home for Thanksgiving, this time with your alien husband and new twin daughters in tow.*A sequel to Deus Domesticus*
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Deus Domesticus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572664
Comments: 10
Kudos: 159





	Dies Gratiarum Actionis

You’ve been looking forward to Thanksgiving Day and dreading it with equal measure. This will mark the first time that your entire extended family will meet not only your somewhat-intimidating otherworldly husband, but also your precious twins, Andora and Asrun, who still seem so tiny and fragile. 

Bruce Banner, who’s taken on the study and care of your little hybrid babies as something of a personal project, has assured you time and time again that they’re sturdy enough to handle a road trip. Even Loki agrees with him, for once, which should be reassuring. 

“They’re half-Jötunn, darling,” he tells you. “They’re hardly fragile. Besides, haven’t you wanted to introduce me to everyone? Or am I to remain your dirty little secret?”

“I thought  _ you  _ didn’t want to meet everyone,” you reply. “You’ve been dodging it for years.”

“Well, now we have the twins,” he says, “and I imagine that they’ll prove a lovely distraction. All of your relatives will be too busy cooing over them to send scathing looks towards your alien husband.”

“Using your own children as a shield, Loki?”

“Absolutely.” He leans into the backseat of your SUV, double-checking that both of the car seats are properly fastened in place. “Are you sure that you don’t mind driving?”

“I might want to trade out in a little while, but we’ll see. Just promise you won’t be a backseat driver, okay? It’s been a while since I’ve been on this long of a trip, and I’m a little anxious.”

Loki pulls you close for a kiss. “Don’t be. We’ll have a lovely time. I’ll even wear those awful mortal clothes, if it will make you happy.”

“Plaid isn’t awful. Plus, we’ll all match, and it’ll be super cute. Don’t you want to match?”

“We do have Asgardian garments in my colors that are coordinated, as well, you know.”

“Yeah, and when we go visit your family, we’ll wear them. For this—”

“For this, I will sacrifice my dignity and wear the plaid,” he says. 

“Good.” You grab his lapels and drag him down for another quick kiss; it’s going to be a long drive, and your opportunities to casually make out have dropped significantly since the twins came along. “If you want to bring them down, I’ll finish loading up the back. Okay?”

“Very well.”

“Hey, babe?”

He turns back, already halfway up the steps that lead from the garage. “Yes?”

You wink. “I’m digging the man-bun. Very sexy.”

Loki blushes. 

~

“Everything okay back there?”

“Yes, dear,” Loki replies, but when you take a peek at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, he looks a little frazzled. Dora hasn’t started her foghorn-volume wailing yet, but you can hear her getting fussy. 

“You sure you don’t mind riding in the back, Loki? I know it’s cramped back there.”

“I don’t mind.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, “But would you mind turning up the music?”

You oblige. You don’t know why your daughters like falling asleep to Nordic chanting, but you aren’t going to argue with a method that works, even if it does make for some very strange car rides. 

“Asrun is asleep,” he says. “Her little expression is so serious; she must be presiding over her court in her dreams.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll take a photo, so that you can see it when we stop.”

You smile. Loki probably has thousands of photos of Andora and Asrun on his phone already. It’s especially amusing when you consider the fact that he has a nearly photographic memory. Every tiny expression they make seems to utterly fascinate him, and it’s almost impossible to think that he once had to be convinced that he’d be a good father. 

The fall leaves speed by. If the twins were a bit older, you’d have brought along a picnic, because it’s a perfect, crisp fall day. You’re already going to have to make several stops to feed them, though, and so you’re perfectly content settling for some quick drive-through food to tide you over. Once you’re at the house, you can relax. 

You sneak another peek at Loki, who’s got one hand on each of your babies, rubbing their little stomachs to the rhythm of the music. You  _ hope  _ that this visit will be relaxing, especially for him. Your family hasn’t been particularly thrilled about your marriage to someone who’s so very far from anyone’s definition of ‘normal,’ and the few times he’s met anyone from your family, things have been tense and uncomfortable. 

You don’t want it to always be that way, though. The Starks are wonderful, as are the rest of the Avengers who live in the Tower with your little family, but you want your kids to grow up knowing the regular, everyday human side of their family, too. 

Surely if you can win over Odin Allfather, you can get your family to have a good relationship with Loki, right? He’s handsome and incredibly charming - when he wants to be - and your kids are irresistibly cute. How could any relatives  _ not  _ be won over by that combo?

-

“Sweetheart.”

You start awake, both hands instinctively flying out to your sides to shield your daughters… who are both sound asleep in their carriers. “Huh?”

Loki smiles at you in the mirror. “You were beginning to snore. It was precious. My three favorite girls, all sleeping, leaving their poor chauffeur to keep himself entertained.”

“You know that music always gets to me,” you reply, leaning up to rub his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lokes.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses your hand, his eyes never leaving the road. “I’m glad to see all of you resting. It’s rare for all three of you to be sleeping at the same time. I only woke you because I believe we’re getting close.”

You take a closer look at the scenery passing by. “Yeah, this is looking familiar. The kiddos should be getting more formula right about now, but I feel like we can just let them sleep until we get there. What do you think?”

“That will be fine,” Loki says. “Being a bit off of their normal schedule won’t hurt them, darling. Let them sleep; Norns know we should enjoy the peace and quiet while we can.”

You settle back into your seat. Despite all of his own parenting anxiety, he’s basically an angel when it comes to constantly reassuring you that you’ve got this  _ mothering _ thing at least slightly figured out. 

There are already cars parked everywhere when you finally pull in, which means that you’re going to have to wade through the entire crowd of relatives to get in the door. You’d really been hoping to arrive earlier, but travelling with the twins in tow slowed things down a bit.  _ It’ll be okay,  _ you tell yourself, waiting for Loki to unfasten Andora’s carrier so that you can clamber out of the car.  _ Babies’ first Thanksgiving - it’s a milestone! Try to enjoy it. _

People swarm out of the house to greet you, but there’s a definite pause when Loki rounds the car, Dora in his arms. She’s blinking sleepily, visibly annoyed at being jostled around, and her eyes are a lovely, vibrant scarlet. You’ve gotten used to red eyes… but it seems to have caught everyone else off-guard. 

Loki clears his throat. “Hello, family,” he says.

“That really  _ is  _ Loki!” one of your younger cousins cries, pointing excitedly.  _ “Avenger  _ Loki!”

Loki’s expression relaxes a bit. “That’s me.”

“Of course he is,” your aunt says, coming in for a hug. “You’ve seen the wedding pictures, haven’t you?”

The kid keeps staring.  _ I know the feeling,  _ you think.  _ He’s a lot more intimidating in real life, isn’t he? _

The twins are given to your parents to cuddle for a bit; you’re happy to note that your dad seems a lot more friendly with Loki than he did the last time they met. Asrun turns blue when she grabs ahold of your mom’s blue sweater, which leads to gasps of surprise and shock from everyone aside from your parents. You guess the fact that your kids are shape-shifters must not have made it into the family newsletter. 

“How did she do that?” one of your uncles asks. 

“It’s in her blood,” Loki replies. You can tell by the pride shining in his eyes that he’s about to start bragging on their magical aptitude, and you give your head a little shake.  _ Minimize magic discussions.  _ It’s going to take some time for your family to understand how all of this  _ magical  _ stuff works, and you’d rather not spend the entire holiday fielding questions about it. 

Since you’re the last people to arrive, your grandma declares that it’s time to take some family photos, before everyone gets full and tired from dinner. The fall leaves make a beautiful backdrop, and you even manage to get one glorious photo of you and Loki and the twins, all decked out in your appropriately-autumnal plaid shirts. Both Andora and Asrun are even looking at the camera in one of the photos, which is typically hard to accomplish. 

“Look at this one,” you tell Loki, holding up your camera for him to see. 

“Print it for me when we're home,” he says. “I’d like a copy for my office.” He holds Dora close, nuzzling her cheek. “Aren’t we a handsome family, my little warrior?”

She coos and bops him on the nose, giggling when Loki makes an expression exaggerated shock. 

“You  _ did _ just call her a warrior,” you point out, cradling Asrun close; she’s still sleepy from the car ride, and you don’t want her to get fussy. “Dora knows when she’s been issued a challenge.”

The rest of the family herds you into the house, and you let your parents introduce Loki to all of the relatives he’s never met before while you unpack some of the twins’ necessities. You excuse yourself before dinner to give them each a bottle, and Loki comes to the guest room to help. 

“What do you think, darling?” he asks. “Am I being approachable enough to suit you?”

“Yes,” you tell him, laughing at his tired sigh as he leans back against the headboard of the bed, Asrun in his arms. “I really appreciate it, sweetheart. I know it must be overwhelming. I guess it’ll even out when we go to Asgard.”

“Oh, you have no  _ idea.  _ It won’t simply be meeting with family; we’ll be on display for the entire kingdom, and likely for quite a few visitors from the other immortal realms, as well. Everyone will be dying to see the new princesses.” He smiles. “Luckily, as we  _ are _ royalty, we can simply order everyone away when we need a moment’s peace. All of Asgard knows that I’m best left alone when I’m in a temper.”

“As long as we get some alone time… I’m desperate for some alone time, Loki.”

“I know,” he says. “They’ve been so much more peaceful these last few weeks; I really do believe they’ll be sleeping through the night, before long. We can have a night to ourselves…” Loki wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Start working on my next heir, perhaps?”

“Hah. I’m not going through that ordeal again for a  _ long  _ time, thank you very much.”

“Ah.”

“...but that doesn’t mean we can’t pretend.”

His eyes light up. 

The elaborate wooden cribs have made the journey with you, tucked safely away in one of Loki’s space-pockets. There’s apparently some kind of Asgardian superstition about the wood of infant cribs having to be a certain type… you’ve never been able to completely follow either his or Thor’s attempts of explaining it, but as long as you’re not the one having to lug them around, you’re all for it. You’d sleep in your own bed every time you travel, if you could. 

Dora and Asrun go down for a nap, and you and Loki re-emerge in the dining room, hand in hand. “So, I heard something about dinner?” you tease.

“We were waiting for you kids,” your grandma says. “How are the babies?”

“Well-fed and tired,” Loki replies. “From what I’ve been told, they take after me and my brother in their tendency to gorge themselves and then fall into a heavy sleep.”

“Absolutely precious,” one of your aunts says, and you beam up at Loki as he gallantly pulls out your seat at the dinner table. 

“But why is one of them blue?” an old great-uncle asks from the far end of the table. Everyone else seems a little embarrassed, even though you know they were all wondering the same thing. 

“Well,” you say delicately, “Loki can change his appearance. He’s from a place where people have blue skin and… the twins kind of change back and forth at random, depending how they’re feeling.”

That earns quite a few stares. 

“I’m sorry,” someone else says, turning to Loki, “but did she just say you’re  _ blue?” _

“On occasion,” he replies, and you squeeze his thigh under the table to warn him against turning into a snake or a wolf or something like that at the dinner table, because you know he’d revel in the chaos. “This is what I would consider my typical appearance. I imagine the girls will choose whatever they’re more comfortable with, as they grow and learn to control it.”

No one seems prepared to respond to that, and for a few blessed moments, conversation around the table falls to more normal topics, like gossip about people from your hometown and complaints about your some of your cousins’ neighbors. You help Loki fill up his plate; you’ve been together long enough that you have a pretty good idea of what he’ll enjoy the most. 

The two of you take turns checking on the twins as dinner stretches on, and you’re delighted when dessert comes around with no major incidents. Loki may or may not be stress-eating when he demolishes almost an entire pumpkin pie, but you figure he’s earned it. He’s handling the staring and the strange questions from your family like a champ, and you’re proud of him; when you first met him, the very presence of  _ mortals  _ seemed to make him prickly and on-edge. 

_ Oh, Loki,  _ you think, scooping a huge dollop of whipped cream onto his plate,  _ how the mighty have fallen.  _

But, it’s a  _ good _ kind of fall. That much you know for certain. 

You take turns holding the babies while your family plays charades after dinner. Dora and Asrun both seem fascinated and slightly judgmental, like they can’t quite understand  _ why _ all of these silly people are wildly gesticulating and shouting at each other, but they’re going to keep an eye on everything, just in case. 

The twins are particularly delighted anytime their father stands up to take a turn, and you try not to be  _ too _ jealous; Loki is the more exciting actor, of the two of you. It probably reminds them of when he acts out some of his favorite bedtime stories from his own childhood, always incredibly expressive and dramatic. 

Asrun pats your cheek and makes a happy little squeak. “That’s a good guess,” you tell her. “Is that what you think Daddy is, hmm?”

Her little forehead markings wrinkle as her brow furrows in concentration. She makes the same squeaky sound again, like she’s confirming her answer.

“Watch out,” your dad says. “Before you know it, they’ll be talking, and you’ll wonder where the time has gone.”

“How will that… work?” an aunt asks. “With the aging and development…”

Loki returns to his seat beside you on the couch. “We aren’t certain yet,” he says. “They seem to be following many normal human milestones, but I’ve been told that Jötunn infants often develop expressive language more slowly.” He scoops Dora up and bounces her in his arms. “We’ll just have to learn as we go.”

The babies tire easily from all of the excitement, and after a late-night snack, you and Loki put them down for bed, praying that they’ll have a peaceful night. You curl up on the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as you try to suppress a yawn. You’d been hoping that you’d have enough energy to stay up and talk and maybe watch a little TV on your laptop to unwind, but you’re exhausted. 

“I think we can count today as a success,” you tell him. “We made it through in one piece, you got to give out a few autographs, everyone agreed that our babies are basically perfect…”

Loki nods, slowly rubbing the small of your back. He’s tired, too; you can see it in his eyes. “It is good to have a day for giving thanks,” he says. 

“Yeah? What are you most thankful for, Lokes?”

“You, of course, and them. My precious little wife and daughters. What more could I possibly ask for?”

You kiss his cheek, sighing in contentment. “You’ve gone soft.”

“I suppose I have.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” Loki replies. “I always will.”


End file.
